She looked back at Morgan. “I’m ready.”
“I . . .” Morgan’s voice trailed off, and she peered at Kira closely. “That’s not what I was expecting at all.”
“Me neither,” said Kira. She clenched her jaw, trying not to cry. “Let’s go,” she said softly. “Now, before I lose my nerve.”
“You don’t want to do this, McKenna,” said Vale. “Any experimentation on Kira could release the Failsafe.”
Morgan looked at him quizzically. “Excuse me?”
“The Partial Failsafe,” said Vale. “The decoy we built to fool ParaGen, the one that kills Partials. The board embedded it into a new line of Partial prototypes without our knowledge. If you stumble onto the chemical trigger, you could release it.”
“What are you playing at, Cronus?” asked Morgan, though Kira could see a hint of doubt in her eyes. “I’ve seen her medical scans—I’ve combed through every cell in her body for months now. If there were another viral package, I would have seen it.”
“You didn’t know what you were looking for,” said Vale.
Morgan stared at him, then shot a glance at Kira. “Is this true?”
“I . . .” Kira kept her eyes locked on Morgan, too afraid to look at Samm. “I think he’s right.”
Morgan nodded vaguely, her eyes distant. “We’ll have to be careful, then.” She turned to the plane. “Take her. Let’s get out of here.”
“What are you going to do with the Preserve?” asked Vale. The soldiers around him, fully under the sway of his link, made it clear from their positioning that they were ready to fight if he gave the word. But they were surrounded, and Kira doubted his small group, no matter how loyal, could really stop Morgan from doing anything.
Morgan glanced around her, at the intact buildings and thriving grass and trees and the families surrounding the plane, as if noticing them for the first time. “Assuming you come with me, I don’t see any reason why your little ant farm shouldn’t be allowed to die in peace.”
“Then I’ll join you,” said Vale.
“And I’m staying,” said Samm.
Morgan rolled her eyes, clearly irritated. “What makes you think you can make requests?”
Samm stood firm, looking more fierce than Kira had ever seen him. “It’s not a request.”
Morgan thought for a moment before answering. “Fine,” she said, dismissing him with a wave. “Exile here is worse than what I had planned for you anyway.” She looked at Heron. “How about you? I’d say you’ve earned your way back into the inner circle, my dear.”
“I’m staying, too,” said Heron.
This surprised Morgan even more. “What about your expiration?”
“I’ll be back east in time,” said Heron, and glanced at Samm. Kira couldn’t be sure, but it looks like they were sharing something over the link. She expected her to mention the Partials trapped in the spire, and thus was surprised at the vagueness her next words. “I have some loose ends to tie up first.”
“Fine, then.” Morgan turned back to the plane, signaling for the soldiers to bring Vale and Kira after her. Kira could see the humans of the Preserve cowering here and there in the background, watching in terror and fascination as this enemy from the sky from the sky took their leader and left them alone.
I have to go with them, she thought. I have to take a step, and then another, and then up onto the plane and away to . . . to I don’t even know. The end. She shook her head. I want to go, but . . . I don’t want to leave.
“Kira,” said Samm, and she felt a tear in the corner of her eye.
“Samm,” she said, “I . . . I’m sorry, I don’t know . . .” She turned to face him, trying to find the right words to tell him what she felt, but she didn’t even know it herself, and suddenly he was embracing her, holding her in his arms, kissing her more passionately she had ever been kissed before. She kissed him back, feeling their bodies melt into each other, lips and arms and chests and legs, a single person in a moment of perfect unity. She held him as long as she could, and when he pulled away to breathe, she pressed her face against his chest.
“I’m sorry for bringing us here, for everything I’ve done,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
“I chose to follow you,” he said, and his voice was deep and rich. “And I’ll find you again.”
They kissed one more time, and then the Partial soldiers were pulling her to the plane. She turned and looked at him from the steps, and he stared back, motionless.
And then the doors were closed and the giant rotors spun up with a hum she could feel in her bones.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Isolde’s baby was born two days later, in her bedroom in Nandita’s house. The Partial raiders had long ago pillaged the hospital for gear and meds, and so they had nothing to help her other than themselves. Madison held Isolde’s hand, coaching and encouraging her; Senator Kessler caught the baby, and Nandita watched both mother and child for signs of trauma. It was a boy, and Isolde named him Mohammad Khan. Within hours he was sick. His skin broke out in a scaly rash, hardening in patches as tough as cowhide, and then swelling into blisters. Isolde watched in tears, cradling her baby with no hope of saving him.
But this was not RM.
Senator Kessler studied the blisters from behind a paper breath mask. “This has never happened before.” She shook her head, trying to force away the fear. “Tens of thousands of RM cases, and nothing ever like this.”
“The first human/Partial hybrid,” said Nandita. “This is the first Partial to ever contract RM. We don’t know how it will affect him—or how he will affect it.” Nandita stared at the squalling child, lost in thought. “‘What rough beast, its hour come round at last . . .’” She turned and walked away.
Ariel watched the child, and trembled.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I love writing these acknowledgments because I have so many people who help me, and they deserve all the credit I can give them. At the same time, I hate writing these because I’m terrified I’m going to leave somebody out. I’ll keep it brief this time. Thank you to my editor, Jordan Brown, my agent, Sara Crowe, my publicist, Caroline Sun, and everyone else at HarperCollins and Balzer + Bray. You’re amazing.
Thank you to all of the authors who let me join them for awesome book tours and events, and thank you to the many amazing booksellers who organize those events and have become, over time, good friends. Most of all, thank you to the readers who come to all of these events. You’re what makes them great.
On a personal level, this book would not exist without my wife, Dawn, who is the most wonderful person I know. This book would exist, but would not be very good, without the input of my brother, Rob, and my friend Ben Olsen, who both contributed valuable bits of storytelling gold. I’d tell you which bits, but it’s kind of a spoiler.